Lumos Maxima (Harry Potter Next-Gen)
by nat-lie
Summary: Everything comes easy to James Sirius Potter. Except for the task of having to live up to the family name, to his parents, and to his namesakes that he didn't even know. Nothing comes easy to Cecilia Donahue. She's the child of a Death Eater and is judged every day because of her family and green Slytherin cloak. Can they come together despite war, prejudice, and their differences?
1. Chapter One

**Chapter One**

"There is no happy ending. I'm sorry, but there is no miracle solution that solves all problems. Life goes on even when we close the book. We still make mistakes, we still have things to overcome. The world will never be a perfect place. But you really just have to keep your chin up, and keep pushing on."

Out the window, the hills flew by quickly as the train chugged along. Cecilia Donahue paused for a moment, pushing the quill thoughtfully against her lips. She looked over her flowing script for issues and tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"Oi, Dominique," She said suddenly. There was only one other person in the trolley, a lithe teenage girl with a strawberry-blonde hair and a freckle-spattered nose that was scrunched up in concentration. The girl looked up when she heard her name and put down her wand, taking a break from practicing her transfiguration.

Dominique Weasley's lips spread into an excited grin at the voice of her best friend. "You finally finished it? Lemme read, lemme read."

Cecilia handed the well-loved journal over and nervously sat on her hands. "Be honest, though." She told her sternly. "Don't sugarcoat it if it's awful."

Dominique nodded, shooing away Cecilia's worry hands and began to read thoughtfully, munching on a chocolate frog. Cecilia watched her dark eyes scan the words so lovingly etched onto the parchment. Once she was done, she handed the journal back to Cecilia, looking impressed. "Dude, it's amazing."

Cecilia scowled. "You always say that. Is it like, amazing enough to get published? I really want to be taken seriously as a writer."

"Well, it's relevant to today, and it comes from the heart. I don't see any issues with it. Except for perhaps maybe a missing Oxford comma or two."

Cecilia nearly shrieked. "For real? Where?"

"Nah," Dominique teased, sticking her tongue out. "I'm only joking. Grammar's perfect as always."

Cecilia shut the journal and smiled to herself, leaning her head against the window. "This sounds horribly idiotic, but I have a good feeling about this year, you know. Just think about it, a perfect year to cap off our Hogwarts experience. I'm Head Girl, you're our trusty Quidditch Beater and our Captain to boot!"

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to you helping me get away with a lot of trips down to the kitchens and sneaking around and such."

"Only sometimes," teased Cecilia. "I'd like to actually graduate, y'know."

Dominique rolled her eyes and smiled. "Whatever," She said, a jilting tone in her voice, "But you're right, it should be a good year if play our cards right."

"If only I can keep you in line," Cecilia laughed. "If I somehow I manage to, then I don't see why we can't win the House Cup, ace our NEWTs, and then dominate the Wizarding World together."

"Yeah, I'm imagining me as a professional Quidditch player someday, and you're Editor in Chief of the Daily Prophet."

Cecilia grinned, imagining it in her head. "Sounds amazing."

Dominique nodded happily, but she wasn't done fantasizing. "And then imagine our powerful little magical kids playing with each other, and both being sorted in Slytherin, like how we met."

"Aww, I like that idea." Cecilia pursed her lips. "But I thought you didn't want kids?"

Dominique thought for a moment. "Eh, maybe if I find someone who can keep up with me. That Lysander Scamander's looking better and better every year. Y'know, that Ravenclaw intelligence thing is sexy. You're friends with him, hook me up, will you?"

Cecilia burst out laughing. "Lysander's not interested, Dom."

"What?"

"You've heard the rumors about him and that MacMillian boy."

Dominique's eyes went wide in shock, and then they both went quiet. The short-lived silence was soon broken by Dominique's simple reply.

"Oh, I figured."

Laughter filled the compartment. So much that they could hardly hear the train whistle pierce through the air; they would be at their destination soon.

Later that night, as she sat at the Welcoming feast, surrounded by her friends and fellow Slytherins, Cecilia noticed a general feeling of nostalgia in the air. The Great Hall felt very bittersweet to her. This was the last sorting she would ever witness in her long seven years at Hogwarts. Like always, Cecilia cheered with the rest of her Slytherin housemates whenever a first-year scurried over to their green-clad table. The first new Slytherin, a girl by the name of Amelia Ambrose, wore the widest, most excited smile Cecilia had ever seen. How full of innocence she was. Little did she know she'd be so changed and experience so many new and wonderful things during her years here. Even though Cecilia was excited about the future, she had to admit that she would miss walking these castle corridors. As she saw the new Slytherin girl, she couldn't help but see another girl, one who was sorted nearly seven years ago. It was herself, a trembling young girl with long dark hair, wide blue eyes, and a chewed-up lip. Cecilia remembered being nervous and alone when that hat was placed upon her head. Funny how different she felt now, feeling so at home under the bewitched night sky ceiling and the floating, flickering candles.

"Feeling sentimental yet?" Dominique asked from behind Cecilia, a thoughtful tone in her voice. Cecilia turned to see a small smile on her best friend's lips.

"A little," Cecilia admitted. "I still don't know if I'd go through it all again, but I'm definitely not ready to say goodbye."

"I'd do all again in a heartbeat," Dominique said sadly, looking at a redheaded boy who had just been sorted into Hufflepuff.

"There's so much more out there, though. I'm excited to get on with my life."

"Oh, Ceils, only you'd say that." Dominique laughed and then began to recite from the Sorting Hat's song earlier in the Feast. "'Slytherin, the cunning folk, full of ambition, wearing the green cloak!'"

Cecilia laughed too, stuck her tongue out playfully. "Guilty as charged, I guess."

With that, she then turned her attention back to the Sorting to see a familiar face up next.

"Luke," The words trickled from Cecilia's mouth before she even knew it, and a small smile formed on her lips, barely containing her excitement. Her younger brother, Lukas Donahue, next in line. He clutched his fists together tightly, not knowing what to do with his hands. He was long and lanky in build, like Cecilia. He also shared her light blue eyes, but instead of dark hair, beautiful blond curls sat atop his head.

He wore a look of determination. For a moment, Cecilia wondered if that was a mask. She looked on with bated breath as Luke managed his way over to the Sorting Hat and gingerly placed it atop his head.

The hat deliberated and mumbled to itself. It didn't have to think very hard, however, for it was only a moment later when its mouth-shaped rip spread widely and it yelled out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Loud, obnoxious whoops came from the red-clad table as Luke scurried over with excitement. Cecilia clapped as loudly as she could, radiating pride and wearing a smile that spread from ear to ear. Lukas quickly squeezed himself in next to two familiar faces: a young girl with long red hair pinned back and a boy with a mop of messy brown hair and freckles spattered across his face.

"That's interesting, though," Dominique commented with a smile.

"Tell me about it. Looks like he'll be well acquainted with nearly half of your family. Hugo and Lily are close to his age, right? Wonder where they're sitting?" wondered Cecilia aloud, craning her neck.

"Ha, yeah, I think they're sitting next to him, actually."

"Oh." Cecilia smiled and sat back down comfortably in her seat. "Y'know, I just hope he'll fit in. I really didn't peg Luke for a Gryffindor. I guess the Sorting Hat works in mysterious ways."

"It's not as obvious for everyone," Dominique shrugged.

"Just wish I could know why," Cecilia mumbles, circling her finger around her spoon absentmindedly, making it dance in her cup of tea with magic.

"Well, you know what people will say," Dominique said quietly. "They won't believe their ears."

"Yeah, they'll assume." Cecilia sighed defeatedly.

"He's such a sweetie, Ceils, if only they knew, then I bet rumors wouldn't pop up." Dominique's voice softened, her dark eyes meeting Cecilia's light. She gripped Cecilia's arm supportively.

"They probably still would," Cecilia said dryly, face unreadable as she looked ahead, grasping her teacup tightly.

Dominique's face fell. "I'm sure he can handle it."

"I hope he can. He's just so young. He's been through so much already. It must have been so hard growing up without understanding why he didn't have a dad. Understanding why he was such an awful person, why he must not be like him."

Dominique didn't know what to say. She pondered around for the right words of comfort. She couldn't relate to Cecilia's situation, she grew up on the opposite side of the battle. The side that had emerged victorious. The side that had emerged without a lasting legacy of past mistakes and crimes against wizardkind.

"I know," Dominique said finally.

Cecilia could sense the tension and Dominique's uncertainty, so she flashed a smile. "Hey, don't worry, I'm fine. No need to get all heavy and intense." She reassured the Weasley girl, waving a hand.

Dominique looked relieved when she smiled back at Cecilia. "Alright," She squeezed Cecilia's hand just as the last first-year was called to be Sorted. The two Slytherin girls turned their gazes back on the stage and watched on with anticipation.

The last first-year girl squirmed in her seat with the Sorting Hat placed atop her head, fiddling with strands of her honey-colored hair, eyes shut tightly, ears keenly attuned, listening for the one word that would seal her fate.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The emotion that the girl wore was one of relief and utter bliss. The Gryffindor table roared with applause, standing up, whistling and making a general racket. This time, the rest of the Houses cheered genuinely, unlike when Slytherin house would gain a new student.

On her way over to the proud table in red, the girl's eyes flickered over in a judgemental stare to where Cecilia and Dominique were seated.

"Yikes," Dominique snickered, making light-hearted fun out of the first-year's rather intense and condemning glare. "What was that for? What's stuck up her butt?"

Cecilia forced a nonchalant smile on her face that masked the dull pain that always lingered this time of year. "Yeah, I wonder why she did that," Cecilia lied.

It was a lie because Cecilia already knew exactly why she had looked so hateful. It was because that young girl knew what sort of people had been sorted into Slytherin house in the past. Her parents most likely gave her a stern warning before they kissed goodbye on the platform. "Goodbye, dear!" They most likely had said. "Remember, we love you no matter

house you get sorted into!" Most likely they had stopped once they had said that, and then had attempted to retract their steps. "Except for y'know,

one!"

Cecilia could tell by the look on that girl's face that she also had recognized the Donahue name when Lukas had been sorted. It was because she was scared of them, of their name.

How silly, thought Cecilia, to be scared of a name, especially when it belongs to a harmless young boy like Lukas.

But actually, it was pretty easy to be scared of a name. Even when it belonged to wide blue eyes, soft blond curls, and untrained fingers. It was especially easy when the name being shared was that of a murderous, torturous Death Eater.

Celia sighed and rested her chin on her hand. She was used to it by now. It was so unfair, for the Donahue children did not even really know their father, yet they were stuck paying prices for mistakes made before their time.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

The moon was full and bright that night. It rose far, far in the sky before Celia and Dominique went to sleep that night. They couldn't just tuck into bed early, everyone was too excited for the coming school year and wanted to celebrate. The Slytherin common room was usually cold and a bit dull to hang out in, but tonight it was filled with merriment and good spirits by witches and wizards of all ages. A great fire was lit in the huge stone fireplace, crackling mightily. Students were piled onto the couches in heaps, talking and sharing stories of the summer. The paintings on the walls also conversed with one another casually, and it was amusing for the other students to see the muggleborns' confused awe-struck faces. It was always amusing to see some first years' exposure to magic, from the spells themselves to the ghosts that roamed the halls. As Cecilia and Dominique walked into the dungeon, they happened to spot their favorite ghost in particular.

"Hello, Baron!" said Cecilia, sitting down on a couch.

"Hello, Cecilia! Hello, Dominique!" greeted the Bloody Baron, his chains clanking as he raised his arms for a hello.

"Have a nice summer?" Dominique asked.

"Actually, no," the Baron frowned. "It was quite depressing."

"Oh? How come?"

"Let's just say some ghosts are just getting used to their new specter bodies. There's a young lad who died so suddenly in the Battle of Hogwarts that he still doesn't realize he has died." the Baron said wistfully. "He floats across the grounds often, looking for his brother Dennis. It's miserable to see him search, knowing that he'll never find him."

"He's just become a ghost now?" Dominique asked. "But the Battle was so long ago, shouldn't he have just become a ghost then, right after death?"

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," explained the Baron. "Ghost-ship is rather complicated, you see. Some are quick, some take a bit more time. My guess is that he had some unfinished business, he wanted to get his brother before passing on."

"But he never will," realized Cecilia sadly. "They'll never see each other in death because he's stayed as a ghost."

The Baron nodded grimly. There was a short silence acknowledging the new ghost's eternal misery until Dom decided to break it.

"You're right, that sure is depressing." She noted with a laugh. "Merlin's beard, why would you tell us that? We're supposed to be celebrating."

"Well, I did tell you that it would be." The Baron said flatly, sighing and shaking his head.

"Nice talking to you as always, Baron! Thanks for the pleasant conversation!" Dom laughed. As she began to walk away, she linked arms with Cecilia, dragging her off too.

"Bye, Baron!" Cecilia grinned apologetically, and the Baron kindly tipped his head towards her with a smile in return.

While Dominique was drawn to the center of the room, where all of the life was, Celia preferred to sit a bit near the edge of all the fun and on look into all of the shenanigans that occurred. Older students introduced themselves to the new first-years and showed them around, from the bulletin board to the looking-glass wall peering into the Black Lake, where the giant squid swam by occasionally. It was fun to see their awe-induced reactions and giddy smiles towards all of the secrets that the old castle kept. First years were always enthralled at every twist and turn. Goodness, most of the older students were still captivated too, even after spending so much time at the castle, year after year.

As the night went on, students filtered out and went up to bed. The excitement dimmed and drowsiness set in as kids remembered their early classes the next morning. The room gradually quieted, until only four older students remained. Cecilia yawned, looking around at the small group that had formed around her. They closed in together cozily, blankets wrapped tightly against them, in a circle near the fire to keep warm in the frigid dungeon that they called home this time of year.

"Firewhisky, anyone?" Dominique asked suddenly, pulling out a bottle and brandishing it about proudly. A look of concern passed over Cecilia's face, wondering where on earth her friend had hidden that bottle. But then she realized that this was Dom she was dealing with, so she let it pass.

"Oi, Dom, it's only our first day back." piped up a fellow seventh-year with mousy brown hair and a devilish smile by the name of Samuel Bletchley. "Calm down a bit."

"Never, that's not my style." Dom grinned wickedly. "Want some or not?"

"No thanks, I'd rather not have a hangover for my first classes tomorrow, thanks." He rolled his eyes.

"Celia?"

"Ha, no, I'm agreeing with Bletchley on this one. I'll prefer to stay sober." Cecilia dismissively waved a hand.

"Boo," pouted Dom, pouring a glass for herself, and tentatively a second for another. "Emily, you'll be having some, right?"

"Of course." groaned the girl who was lying nearby on a couch with her hands covering her face. Her platinum blonde hair covered the disgruntled look on her face as she sat up. She reached a hand out and took the glass, nodding in approval. Emily Lockwood was another seventh-year student, completing the night-owl group of four. "God knows I need some," She commented. "After living with my parents, in the Muggle world, without magic, all summer. I love them, but I can't go that long without using my wand."

"I don't understand how you haven't gone crazy," commented Cecilia bemusedly.

"Oh, but I have."

"I'd love to see your reaction to the first Gryffindor that tests you." Samuel joked.

Emily laughed. "Me too. I swear, if I get one nasty bugger asking if my entire house hates me because I've been raised by Muggles, or if I've got a Dark Mark on my wrist, I'm sending Peeves after them."

"I don't blame you." snorted Samuel, grinning.

"Hey, have you guys heard that Flitwick might be retiring?" Dom perked up.

"No way," Cecilia scowled, furrowing a brow. "He'll keep on working 'till the day he dies."

"I'm just relaying information that my dad told me," shrugged Dom, "He does work with some people that would happen to be in the know."

"Well, I for one hope that's not true," Emily said, sitting up. "We can't lose one of our best teachers, especially with NEWTs coming up."

"That's true," agreed Sam, jutting a thumb at her in agreement. "Some teachers are barely competent, I swear."

Dominique snorted. "Binns has a reason, though. He's sort of, you know, dead. That doesn't exactly do well for lesson planning and deep thinking."

Cecilia giggled. "It is frustrating, though."

"Thank you!" Samuel laughed, "I mean, after all, you're the one who wants to write a book someday, and the ones he has us read are completely useless."

"Can't deny that," Celia said simply, hugging her knees. "At least his class is easy."

"Hear, hear!" Emily nodded vigorously in agreement. "Minimum effort makes a student happy."

"Speaking of classes that won't let you get by with minimum effort," Dominique simpered, "don't you have NEWT- level potions tomorrow?"

"Unfortunately," groaned Emily in dread, "I heard it's horribly difficult."

"It's horribly difficult to get into that class in the first place," Samuel said. "You're the only one who managed."

"I'm the only one that needs it for her future career," sighed Emily. "Hopefully I'll be touring for an internship at St. Mungo's this holiday."

"Oh, me too! Over the holidays the Kenmare Kestrels' scout wanted to visit with my parents, talk about my plans for graduation." Sam burst in ecstatically.

"Ah, yes, nothing says Merry Christmas like magical maladies and beaters to the head," Dominique whistled, making the others laugh.

"Seriously, though, you two, that's great." Celia smiled softly. "I'm really happy for you guys."

They both met her sincere gaze and smiled back. "Thank you,"

"Speaking of internships," Dominique remarked towards her dark-haired friend, "aren't you up for one too, Ceils? The Daily Prophet?"

Celia flushed as Sam and Emily reacted enthusiastically, getting up in her face.

"What?" gasped Sam, "You didn't tell us!"

"Did this happen over summer?" questioned Emily.

"Well, nothing's exactly set in stone yet-"

"But certainly you'll get it, right? I mean, your grandfather's a high up ministry man, surely he's got some influence."

"He didn't really want to go into detail in it at home," explained Cecilia, "But yeah, he's actually good friends with Mr. Goldstein. He said he's working on it."

"That's so exciting," Sam smiled.

Cecilia looked around awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to their compliments. "Thank you," She grinned nervously. "I'm working on something new now, but it needs a lot of revision before I even consider submitting it."

"I'm not sure what wisdom we'd be able to offer," Emily said, rising to her feet, "but if you need it, we're here." She looked down at her friends, yawning. "Well, I'm going to bed. Gotta be awake and alert for that potions class tomorrow. Night, guys."

Dominique got up too, eyeing Emily as she walked away. "I'm turning in too," she said. "Goodnight,"

So then it was just Cecilia and Sam, sitting, staring at the flickering flames. They both began to get up, too, murmuring to one another about early waking times for the next day.

But before Sam walked away to his dormitory, he turned to look Cecilia in the eyes. "You know what, you should have Professor Longbottom read your work," He advised kindly, stretching his bones. "You're lucky to have a good friendship with the best professor in the school, you should use it to your best advantage."

Cecilia stared at him blankly for a moment before his words truly registered. Her eyes widened and she snapped suddenly to life, nodding profusely. "Yeah! That's.. a really good idea," She pointed at her friend and smiled thankfully at him. "Thanks, Sam! I'll be sure to do that, I'll pay him a visit tomorrow during my free period."

"Night, Celia," Sam chuckled, shaking his head at her.

"Goodnight," said Cecilia. She turned down the hall towards her dormitory, she could hardly stop the gears from turning at full speed in her brain.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Hogwarts was fully alive the next day. Everyone seemed to be full of life. They seemed excited and hopeful, barely able to wait for what the new school year would bring them. Students bustled around the corridor from class to class, the incantations of charms still lingering on their lips.

Outside on the lush grounds, it was alive too. Cecilia walked among birds chirping and flying above her. The air was already getting colder, scratching at Cecilia's cheeks and kissing her nose. The leaves already began to turn vibrant colors, some prematurely leaving the branches in favor for the ground.

Cecilia wrapped her emerald scarf tighter around her for warmth as she walked down the dirt road past the Quidditch pitch. Figures were flying in the distance, dressed in green. Of course, Slytherin was practicing already. Dominique had practically run out of potions class in order to get to the Quidditch pitch the fastest and Cecilia barely had a chance to bid her goodbye before she had sped off. Looking even from far away, Cecilia recognized some of her housemates on the pitch, from Sam's broad build guarding the hoops to Dominique's commanding presence as a speedy seeker. Most of the House teams waited a week after the term started, as to allow for their team members to get settled in first and adjusted, but Slytherin, being the ambitious and cunning people that they were, had already begun. Typical, thought Cecilia, smiling bemusedly to herself.

Her feet led her until the dirt path ended. She reached the greenhouses and entered the first one. Rays of sun peeked through the glass ceilings and walls, reflecting in a wonderful array of colors. Lush plant life lined the walls, hanging from ceilings, set on long tables. They were still damp with the last shower. Professor Longbottom had enchanted the ceilings with aguamenti so that every couple hours, there would be a gentle rain shower over the plants as to allow for maximum growth. If it just so happened to occur during a class time, students would often grab for umbrellas provided at the edge of the room, or more advanced upperclassman would charm impervius. Cecilia just hoped it wouldn't happen now, and catch her unaware.

Professor Longbottom was so clever, and that was one of the many qualities Cecilia admired about the man. Professor Longbottom had always been a close friend, valued teacher, and an avid supporter of Cecilia's journalism dreams, offering whatever help he could. He was one of the only people Cecilia really trusted with her writing, other than her grandmother and Dominique.

She remembered the exact instance where she had begun to realize that her Herbology professor was not only someone in whom she could place trust in but someone who could be her friend.

It was her first year, in November, back when she could barely cast a levitation spell. She was coming back from dinner, returning to her dorm, when she realized that her beloved diary was not in its usual spot in her robes pocket. Regardless to say, she freaked out. After she had checked the entire Ravenclaw tower and the Dining Hall doubly over, she thought to check the last place she was before dinner, which was flying class. The prefects' shouts were utterly useless as the tiny girl ran out in the dusk to the Quidditch pitch with fiery determination. Casting a barely adequate Lumos spell, her wand dimly illuminated the grass as she searched on hands and knees. It had only been moments before another, brighter Lumos spell came out of the darkness from behind her. She turned in surprise, intimidated by the large and overbearing figure until it began to speak with the kindest voice Cecilia had ever heard. It held the light to its face, revealing it to be a familiar face, her Herbology Professor.

"What on Earth are you doing kneeled on the ground at this hour, child?" Professor Longbottom asked, not sounding stern, just confused. "Aren't you cold?"

Cecilia involuntarily shivered. "A little," she admitted.

He reached out an arm, removing his cloak and offering it to her. Cecilia gratefully wrapped it around her, instantly feeling its warmth. At that exact moment, she knew in her heart that she had finally found a friend in the big and lonely castle. Professor Longbottom invited her back to the greenhouse, where he kindly helped her search for hours before finding her precious book in the tight clutches of a venomous tentacula. Exhilarated and relieved, Cecilia had begun to skim the pages lovingly, checking to see that it was all there, but soon noticed a careful glance. The Professor was sure not to intrude and protect her privacy, however, Cecilia could clearly sense his curiousness. Quietly, she closed her book, looked at him, and asked if he would like to read.

And that was the beginning, just a simple question.

Now, nearly six years later, Cecilia called the Professor's name with excitement as she walked around the enormous building. She pushed through the vines that hung from the ceiling, like an explorer making his way through jungle overgrowth. Looking all around the greenhouse, Cecilia soon discovered that her friend was nowhere to be found. She sighed defeatedly and then decided to get comfortable to wait until he eventually made his way back.

She sat down on the grass outside of the greenhouse, crossing her legs underneath herself, and pulled out her journal. The worn leather showed that it was well-loved. She hummed to herself as her quill scratched upon the parchment.

And so life carries on. Back at school, it's like we never even missed a beat. My friends fall back into our regular, happy group. The athletes and the brainiacs, the loners and the social butterflies. It's all the same. I don't mind. I'm not a fan of change, but I also think that change is good from time to time. This year will be good, I know, it'll be exciting, Hogwarts always is. I just hope-

Her scribbles suddenly came to a halt as footsteps drew closer and closer to her spot. She looked up, irritable due to the interruption, and her breath hitched.

She hardly even knew why her breath caught just so. Why was her heart suddenly racing faster?

In her vision was a boy in Gryffindor red, who looked very familiar indeed. Just from peering at him, Cecilia felt as if she had known him for years, but just couldn't put her finger on a name. The boy had this air about him, this energy, that just told Cecilia that he had a false belief that he could do anything if he had quite enough nerve. The confident smile he wore told her that much. He had dark curls, a strong figure, and radiating green eyes. Cecilia watched him silently from behind her book and quill, observing as he walked into the greenhouse, looked around, and in a few moments, exited. She watched him sigh and sag his shoulders in defeat. He must've been looking for Professor Longbottom as well, and hadn't found him either.

Cecilia realized she must be staring rather awkwardly and creepily, so she shook her head out of her daydreams. She set her quill back onto the paper, thinking of her next word, trying to busy herself, but drawing a blank. It was so quiet. Whether she liked it or not, she was acutely aware of what the boy next to her was doing in the silence, which was just looking down at her as he leaned coolly against the glass greenhouse wall.

"You're Cecilia Donahue?" The boy asked suddenly. His voice was warm, slipping past his lips smoothly.

Cecilia jolted at the noise and looked up in alarm, eyes wide. "Yes," She said carefully. "How do you know my name?"

"That is your name, isn't it?"

"Yes," She pursed her lips. "What of it?"

"My mother happens to like your work, she's an avid fan, always reads the Prophet article if it's written by you." The boy smiled gently, making Cecilia flush pink.

"Well, thank you. May I ask, who your mother is?"

"Ginevra Weasley-Potter."

Cecilia's heart jolted in surprise and she bit her lip so hard it nearly bled. "Wh-what?" She exclaimed in an outburst. "Ginny Potter likes my writing?"

The boy laughed heartily. "Yes, she really does, I wouldn't lie to you."

Cecilia could barely believe it. Her mind was spinning with excitement. "Tell her I say thank you,"

"Of course, I will." The boy smiled and winked.

"So you must be James," Cecilia's lips tilted up back at him slyly, finally putting two and two together.

"James Sirius Potter, yes." James grinned. Their eyes met, piercing green with soft blue. "I'm in the year below you, I think. You're friends with my cousin, aren't you?"

"Dominique's a pain in the ass sometimes, but I love her anyway," Cecilia nodded. "Your brother's Albus?"

"Unfortunately,"

"Unfortunately?" questioned Cecilia, eyebrows furrowing. That certainly rubbed her the wrong way. Just when talking to the Gryffindor had been so nice. "Because he's a Slytherin? He's in my house, and he's bloody brilliant."

James had a confused look on his face, scrunching his nose up. "What? No, because he's my younger brother and a pain in the butt. Being a pain in my ass doesn't directly correlate to what house he's in, jeez."

Cecilia suddenly burst into laughter, relieved. "Okay, I'm sorry. Call me silly, but I figured you didn't even want to talk to me. Most Gryffindors don't."

James grinned, looking puzzled, shaking his head. "Why would that even matter?"

"I just thought I'd ask,"

"Oh, okay. Then stop asking dumb questions,"

Cecilia laughed. "Will do. I guess that's just my default now. People see the color on my cloak, and hear my name, and go running."

James nodded and understood at once. He waved a hand, telling her, "If anyone knows anything about being judged by their last name, it'd be me. It sucks. People just assume things."

"Like they did with your brother," reasoned Cecilia.

"Al's a good kid, though. No matter what house he is."

"You really believe that?" A tone of surprise rang in her voice.

"Yeah, I do." James beamed. "Plus, you couldn't even hurt a fly."

"Hey! I could too if I wanted to," Cecilia protested, furrowing her brow.

"Ha, funny. I doubt it."

Cecilia huffed. "I can be scary, especially when I have the proper motivation."

"And what would that be?"

"Maybe someone who's interrupting my writing time," Cecilia mused, smiling wickedly.

James' eyebrows raised and then set down in a determined expression. "Oh, am I? And here I thought we were having a nice conversation."

Cecilia giggled. "Hey, I'm just trying to pass the time before the professor comes back,"

"Ooh, using me, eh?"

"Basically. Figured me out."

James made a falsely sour expression and scowled. As the conversation died down, he spun around absentmindedly on his heels and began to stretch his long limbs. His view turned back toward the greenhouse and suddenly, Cecilia saw his face light up. "Oi, that looks like one of his textbooks over there. Maybe that's a clue to where he's gone."

"What?"

"Over there," motioned James, pointing. His finger led her vision to far away, near the hut where Rubeus Hagrid, the kind half-giant, lived and taught the Care for Magical Creatures class. "In the blast-ended skrewts pen, just inside the gate. "

"It's probably just some first years' lost item," said Cecilia, tilting her head. "How is that even a clue? Most likely he just went back to the castle to talk to McGonagall or something."

"You're being lame," pouted James. "You never know until you investigate."

"There's no sense in investigating," Cecilia laughed. "You should probably just wait for him. Besides, I wouldn't mess with those skrewts."

James slowly turned around to face her, excitement dancing in his emerald eyes. Cecilia could almost see the gears turning in his mind. He smirked slyly.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"James, no-" Cecilia began, but it was too late.

He was already in full sprint, dead set on the corral of the ugly hybrid creatures, leaving Celia in the dust. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. She'd need to go get him away from there before he hurt himself. Before rising to her feet, she tucked her journal neatly inside her satchel and slung it over her shoulder.

"Oi!" She called, waltzing after her new friend to the gate. James had already reached the pen and was fiddling with the lock. "Get away from there, I'm serious, you'll probably hurt yourself."

"It won't open," He remarked loudly back at her.

"I understand it won't open, but maybe it's locked for a reason. Ever think of that? Hey, wait-"

She was cut off as James suddenly swung his legs over the gate, and hopped it. She sighed flatly as he folded his arms on the fence and smugly looked at her.

"Hey, I didn't mean to jump it, you oaf." Cecilia scolded, ignoring James' charming smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the deadly lobster-looking creatures drawing near to the back of his ankle. "James, move, behind you!"

James whipped around, eyes widening in alarm. He let out a small noise of fright and drew out his wand, backing away. "Don't worry, I got this." He attempted to reassure Cecilia, who was not at all comforted, to say the least. "Man, these things smell bad."

"They look mad," She commented dryly. "Perhaps getting out of their home would soothe them."

James rolled his eyes and pointed his wand at the book, saying plainly, "Accio."

The textbook soared through the air in his direction but whacked one of the male skrewts in the process. James clasped his grip around the book and made eye contact with the now-furious creature. It spat and sparks flew from its backside, suddenly propelling it forth towards him. James shrieked and erratically waved his wand, casting "Bombarda!" A powerful blast emitted from his wand tip, hurtling towards the creature and making its impact. A shriek escaped Cecilia as she realized too late the consequences of James' actions. He had succeeded in repelling the horrible skrewt, but he had also blasted a gigantic, gaping hole in their cage for them to escape.

"James!" Cecilia shouted in a fit of disbelief.

He whirled around to face her, eyes wild. "Don't worry about it!" He shrieked back.

"Couldn't you just have accio'ed it from outside of their pen?"

"Shut up!" was James' only response, jumping over the rubble and racing towards her. "Run!"

"You're not just running away and letting them escape, are you-" outburst Cecilia.

"No, of course not! Just getting my distance to cast a brilliant spell that'll fix all this!" James laughed haughtily, not seeming very confident at all, but almost as if he was trying to convince himself.

"You're a lot of trouble, aren't you!" growled Cecilia, whipping around to face the freed skrewts crawling from the ruins of their captivity. She drew her wand tightly in her hand, bursting out a "Reparo!"

"Brilliant, the pen's fixed, but there's a slight problem. THE SKREWTS ARE STILL OUT OF THE BLOODY PEN!" roared James.

"You think I don't know that-" argued Cecilia.

"Probably not!"

"It was your fault in the first place!"

"You're just making it worse!"

"Am not! Run!"

Cecilia dodged as a flame from one of the skrewts struck just next to her. The two scrambled up the hillside, occasionally casting hexes over their shoulders in a wasted attempt to hold off the fearsome beasts. She opened her mouth to cast another haphazard and rushed curse, but as soon as she rotated her view, she ran straight into broad shoulders. Cecilia let out a wheeze and dropped her wand on reaction. She fell to her knees as well from the blow, the wind knocked out of her, not even able to identify the person who knocked into her. Cecilia finally looked up, gasping for breath, jolting in surprise when she saw who the shoulders belonged to.

"Professor Longbottom!"

"What in Merlin's beard are you two doing?" demanded the older man sternly, crossing his arms. He stood tall and powerful above them, dressed well as usual in his trademark shirts and ties. His dark brown eyes, full of warmth, crinkled at the edges in good nature.

"Well, er- just look behind us, sir, and you'll see." James coughed.

The Professor looked confused for a moment but once he craned his neck around the tall sixth-year Gryffindor boy, his eyes widened immediately at the terrifying sight of all of the skrewts in full spring up the hill towards them, stingers out and bloodsuckers ready.

Cecilia and James pretended not to hear their Professor's foul language muttered in outrage under his breath as he drew his wand in a fit of fury.

"Expulso!" He yelled, sending the skrewts back soaring through the air with a blast so powerful it also left them stunned them due to their vulnerable underbellies. They coiled on the ground helplessly.

Professor Longbottom walked casually back over to them and cast a levitation spell, floating them back into captivity in their pen. He then tucked away neatly into his pocket, wiped his hands off on his trousers, and calmly turned to face the two students caught red-handed.

"Oi, I stepped away to talk to Madam Pomfrey about the restorative properties of boom berries for what couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. Can you two please explain to me what in Merlin's beard was happening when I returned?!"

"I was just trying to pay you a visit, and it was all James' fault-" Cecilia sputtered out, face going red.

"My fault?" guffawed James. He looked at the Slytherin girl in indignation. "Don't throw me under the bloody bus, I was just trying to visit my favorite Professor as well, my mother told me to send him my love as usual." He turned and smiled sweetly at Professor Longbottom.

Professor Longbottom returned James' brown-nosing with a deadpan, tired expression. "While I always appreciate Ginny's love, I'm not sure I appreciate her son's taste for troublemaking and recklessness."

The smile faded quickly from James' face.

"As for you, Cecilia, I'm disappointed." continued the professor.

"What?!"

"Never had someone 'disappointed' in you before?" asked James dryly, nudging her with her shoulder. "Don't worry, you get used to it."

"But sir, I'm a prefect, not to mention one of your top students!" Cecilia protested in vain.

"Yes, you're both of those things, but I can't make exceptions, you must know." insisted the Professor.

He took a deep breath as to ready Cecilia for the news. Her light blue eyes were spread in fear and trepidation, and her mouth was slightly open as to possibly yell at James some more. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ears.

"You'll both be serving detention with Mr. Filch for two whole weeks, starting tomorrow. Looks like you two will be spending a lot of time together, whether you like it or not."


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

"I'm Head Girl! I don't get detentions! That's not supposed to happen!"

Dominique rolled her eyes far, far into the back of her head and buried her face in her hands. As much as she loved Cecilia, her best friend in the entire world and someone she so ardently admired, she could not stand this amount of complaining. Dominique had been forced to listen to nearly a half hour of ranting at this point.

"Ceils, it can't be that bad."

"Y'know, I should have just left him," Cecilia grumbled, pacing around the common room furiously. "I shouldn't have tried to be nice, I should have just left him to deal with his own dumb actions, left him to pay the price for his stupidity."

"He's always getting into mischief," sighed Dom, "While they were dumb, don't shame him purely on breaking the rules, that's a bit hypocritical of you."

Cecilia frowned. "I'm not! I'm not saying we've never broken the rules, we've just never gotten caught."

The strawberry-blonde Weasley girl smirked slyly to herself. "That's true. Remember the late night kitchen feast last year? When we stole all the food? Brought it back to the dorms?"

Cecilia smiled a bit, becoming a bit nostalgic. "Yeah," She snickered. "Sam's room reeked for months of that last rotten piece of steak and kidney pie we couldn't find. It was so funny finally finding it stuffed underneath his trunk." Dominique giggled back, but suddenly Cecilia remembered her anger and annoyances. "But still! I never got detention!"

"I know," Dominique exhaled heavily, her shoulders drooping. "Look, it's still probably not as bad as you think, I reckon you're just exaggerating."

"I'm not exaggerating!" brooded Cecilia moodily.

"You're acting as if my cousin's the devil incarnate! He's not, I should know, I'm the one related to him."

"He's... frustrating, that's all." Cecilia mustered out. "I wouldn't have to report to McGonagall tonight if it weren't for his recklessness."

"Well, he is reckless, I'll give you that." Dominique conceded, watching as her friend finally calmed and stopped her pacing. Cecilia's dark curls bounced as she flopped dramatically onto a couch.

There was a short silence of sulking until she finally pouted and asked, "What do you think they'll even have me do?"

"Clean, most likely." Dom shrugged. "Trophy cases or classrooms, maybe courtyards. No magic."

Cecilia groaned.

And clean she did.

Later that night, she had reported to McGonagall's office, where she met with James (glares shared around) and Mr. Filch. Mr. Argus Filch was the old caretaker of Hogwarts, always cranky and always eager to punish young witches and wizards. Cecilia couldn't help but feel a little bad for him, however. After all, he was a Squib, unable to use magic, and was constantly surrounded by magic at Hogwarts. It must've been torture, Cecilia couldn't even imagine.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, on the other hand, was a brilliant and proper witch with a discerning gaze that could make anyone listen to her. Her gray hair was in a bun tight atop her head, rigid, mirroring her personality. Although she often was strict, Cecilia could tell she really did care about her pupils. She really was admirable, or at least Cecilia thought so.

"Miss Donahue, are you listening to me?" asked a sudden sharp voice, breaking Cecilia out of her thoughts. She looked up wildly, seeing the stern but kind face of her headmistress.

"Y-yes, Headmistress!" Cecilia smiled sheepishly.

James muffled his laughs and Cecilia shot him a look of bloody murder. He shut up instantly.

"As I was saying," continued McGonagall, unfazed, "You two will be cleaning the trophy cases by the main courtyard first, and as your two weeks progress, will make your way cleaning the courtyard. There's a rather nasty infestation of doxies there, I'm afraid."

Ugh, thought Cecilia, What a way to start my first term on the last year of my Hogwarts career.

"Mr. Filch, if you'll escort them, please." McGonagall nodded her head towards the door and turned, but then turned back and added as an afterthought, "Miss Donahue, as Head Girl, I can't help but say I'm disappointed in you."

Cecilia withered. "I'm sorry, Headmistress. It won't happen again." There was no use in protesting her punishment anymore, the sentence had already been given.

James snickered some more as they left, following Argus Filch. Cecilia pretended not to hear not only him but also the snide comments of the past headmaster's portraits lining the walls.

"That's why us Slytherins don't listen to filthy half-blood Gryffindors," grumbled Phineas Nigellus Black hatefully. "

"Oh, stuff a sock in it, Phineas," Armando Dippet scolded.

As she left the office, Cecilia heard Phineas' rude retort, and then a fed-up sounding McGonagall telling them to shut up and stop arguing.

"Are they always like that?" wondered James aloud.

Filch let out a scratchy cough and cleared his throat noisily before responding. "Unfortunately, Potter."

"Cool."

Mr. Filch led them through the castle, down the grand swiveling staircases, by candlelight. The trio walked in silence. No, wait, quartet, counting Filch's nasty cat, Mrs. Norris, who stalked the halls alongside her owner with almost as much menace. Cecilia was usually fond of cats, but this one, this one was downright vile. Its' matted fur was a disgusting brown and reeked of filth. A soft hiss was constantly trickling out of the feline's mouth, claws bared and hair stood on end. Peeves, Hogwarts resident poltergeist, floated by and poked at the cat, making it screech horribly.

As she watched Peeves glide away, she realized that the castle was quite eerie at night. The paintings were going to sleep and so was everyone else, from the students to the professors. Only the ghosts roamed the halls. Suddenly, a shrill opera voice pierced the air and caused Cecilia to jump, feeling a shiver sent down her spine.

"Who- or what- was that?" Cecilia gasped.

James merely grinned at her, cocking his head. "Sounded like the Fat Lady. She likes to sing sometimes."

"Oh, right, your common room portrait," Cecilia shook her head, attempting to regain her composure. "Do you really call her that, the 'Fat Lady?' That's kind of mean."

"Says you, you Slytherin call your house ghost the 'Bloody Baron.'"

"Well, good point," admitted Cecilia. "He is bloody, though."

"And she's a bit... well... plumper."

"No talking, you two!" growled Filch, waving his lantern at them rather violently.

He escorted them to the courtyard and trophy case, gesturing to the bucket of cleaning supplies for them to use. Cecilia attempted to tune out the caretaker's speech and his repeated instructions in vain. The moon was pretty tonight, she noted to herself. She wished she was back in her common room, stowed away under the Black Lake, wanted to see the flickering green glow of the candles and the squid that swam near the porthole ever so often. She wished she was tucked away in bed by now, under comfortable and warm blankets, bundled up in warmth, surrounded by friends... not out in the cold autumn air, her only companions being Filch, Mrs. Norris, and a certain Gryffindor named Potter.

Soon, Mr. Filch left, having to attend to his other duties, which were, as he put it, "making sure no little maggots get out of bed after hours". He had heard a loud noise coming from Gryffindor tower and "needed to investigate" but Cecilia rationed that he was being daft and it was probably just the portrait singing again. She shook her head and busied herself in shifting through the cleaning supply bucket as he hobbled off in alarm.

"He sure runs stupid, doesn't he?" James commented.

"Stop talking. He might hear you." Cecilia said dryly as they gathered their stuff by the dusty trophy cabinets.

"Doubt it," scoffed Potter, "He's already down the hall. What's with the sour mood?"

Cecilia looked at him as if he might as well as had a house elf perched on his head. "I could be in bed right now if it weren't for you." She accused.

"I said I was sorry!"

"Did you?" Cecilia rolled her eyes, spraying the spray bottle on the glass and wiping. "I must've missed it."

"Well, I'm sorry," James frowned. His voice took a softer, more apologetic tone. "I didn't mean to set them loose." When she didn't reply, he added with a moody, defeated huff, "So now you hate me or something?"

Cecilia sighed heavily, turning to face him. "I don't hate you." She said plainly. "I really don't hate anyone. Hate's a rather strong word. You just don't like to listen."

"Ah, yes, well I suppose that's my headstrong Gryffindor heart speaking, against the logic as always."

She snorted. The corner of her mouth tipped up and her eyebrows sank into a disbelieving gaze, shaking her head at James much like a mother would to her child. "We should get back to work." She noted, turning back to the cabinet.

"You think detention kids actually work?" laughed James.

"The quicker we're done cleaning, the quicker we can get out of this mess right?" Cecilia furrowed her brow.

"Well, I suppose, but whether or not we have a fast pace and an efficient work ethic won't change the fact that we serve for two weeks."

"Maybe we'll make them change their minds." Cecilia mused, pursing her lips as she scrubbed with such intensity James thought she might shatter the glass. "I don't deserve to be here."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Saying stuff like that. I said sorry."

"It didn't sound very genuine."

There was a short pause in the conversation, where only the squeaks of sponges, suds, and rubber gloves could be heard in the empty corridor, before James broke it with a, "You hold grudges, don't you?"

"No," lied Cecilia, scoffing.

James looked at her oddly, sensing that she was lying. He didn't say anything, as he was not able to fully conclude his theory, nor wanting to deal with the consequence of her poisonous words that would for sure follow if he falsely accused her.

"We were getting so well along before, you know." James contemplated. "What happened to that?"

Cecilia remained silent, mulling over thoughts in her head, avoiding eye contact with James.

He grabbed her arm suddenly, frightening her, and positioned himself so that her gaze met his. "Hey," He said firmly. "I said I'm sorry. I really am."

He sounded earnest. The intensity of his eyes shocked and scared her. They were so green, blazing with a fire that surely could never be put out. Cecilia wondered for a moment if these orbs were the famous Potter family eyes. She deliberated with herself wordlessly. Maybe she was exaggerating the whole situation a bit. Maybe Dom had been right about her troublemaking, reckless cousin.

"It's fine," Cecilia said finally, only half lying.

And James knew that was the best he was going to get out of the stubborn, blunt girl. At least for tonight. He smiled slightly at her melodious voice. He tried to hide it, but failed miserably, much to Cecilia's amusement. As she spoke, every muscle in her body relaxed. James could feel it, by holding her arm. It made him acutely aware of the fact that he was touching her, and he dropped it instantly, not wanting to hurt or make her feel uncomfortable. Cecilia took note of this and turned away from him awkwardly.

She grabbed hold of her spray bottle again and began to clean, pretending not to take note of the awkward silence between the two.

The only noise was a limping footstep nearby, probably of Filch. Cecilia actually did think the way he ran was pretty funny.

She looked over at James wistfully, wanting to say something smooth and clever to relieve the obvious tension, but suddenly felt fur brush upon the skin of her lower leg. Looking down, she saw the ruddy fur of Mrs. Norris. She was unexpectedly purring.

"Son of a bitch!" Cecilia screamed the instant claw met flesh. She dropped her bottle on reaction, the cleaning liquid spilling all over the floor. The abrupt shriek made James leap and Mrs. Norris flee the scene quickly.

"What the hell?" James gaped at her with wide eyes.

"That dumb cat scratched me!" She bent down to inspect her injury. Three long, jagged scratches, from her mid-calf to her ankle, through her green-striped knee high socks. It bled freely, soaking the fabric.

"Ugh, I hate that thing." James glared down the hall at the feline, looking like he wished to curse it. "You alright?"

Cecilia drew her wand, pressing it to the cuts. "I'll be fine," She said, furrowing her brow together. "Episkey." The wound healed at once.

"That was brilliant." James smiled in awe at her.

"Not really," She said modestly, trying to fight the flush come to her cheeks with determination.

James offered her a hand and helped her up. He then pointed to a clean, dust-free spot of the trophy case. "Look, I'll be there one day."

"For Quidditch?"

"Yeah," He said proudly. "I'm captain this year, might as well aim high, be next to my parents and all."

Cecilia stared at the names on the golden trophy. Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley.

"Lofty goals," She commented monotonously.

"It's a lot to look up to," James said, his eyes shifting uncomfortably.

"I'm sure you'll do it just fine," Cecilia sensed his change in tone and changed hers accordingly, to a soothing voice she did not even know she had. "Dominique tells me Gryffindor means trouble this year."

"Oh, she's not scared of me, she has the best team Slytherin's had in years-"

"Nah, she's scared." laughed Cecilia unexpectedly. "Told me herself."

James looked astounded and then began to laugh too. "I'm glad," He said, "We'll do our best to give them a run for their own money."

"Hopefully. Nothing easy is ever worth having. I think some Muggle said that once or something. It's a complicated thing, Quidditch. Sometimes Dominique needs a challenge." Cecilia folded her arms within herself, studying the trophy case quite fixedly.

"I'll do my best to conquer mine, too." James chuckled, looking at the petite girl clad in green. Cecilia felt a bit uneasy as she felt his stare. She turned with an intense look contorting her face, and for the second time that night, those same piercing emerald eyes met hers. They always seemed to enrapture her. As Cecilia heard the words flow out of James' mouth like the cool breeze in the night, she got a shiver down her spine. She blamed the chilly air for her sensation, but she also got the feeling that he wasn't exactly talking about Quidditch anymore.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Oh, how her whole body _ached_. For the first week, every morning after her detentions, her lack of sleep would truly take its toll on Cecilia. Despite this, she had manage to work herself into a bit of a haphazard schedule. She always awoke late as usual, never the morning person, to Sam's shouts up the stairs to wake the girls. He couldn't come up due to the rules. However, he was the only one out of the Slytherin bunch that could apparently roll out of bed at a decent time.

"We get it, Samuel, now shut up!" Dominique would often yell at the top of her lungs.

With that, Cecilia could finally rise and begin her day. As she passed her roommates, murmurs of hellos were exchanged between yawns. Cecilia would make her way over to the window, thrusting open the curtains to let some sunlight peek through. The dungeon location of the dormitory allowed for limited sunshine, but sunshine nonetheless. Even Slytherins categorized by their ruthlessness and ambition did enjoy the sun sometimes.

England was known for its cold, misty mornings, which should have revitalized Cecilia's tired bones at least a little bit as she walked briskly through the same courtyard every morning, having just inhabited it the night prior. Silently, she would shuffle along with her chatty friends to breakfast, too tired to make much noise at all. Throughout every breakfast meal, she would be miserable. She would itch at her dark eyes, craving the absolute pleasure in which it would be to close them. Regardless to say, she would be extremely disappointed when her usual huge cup of coffee didn't give her the caffeine boost she needed.

After breakfast on Monday in particular came her first class- Transfiguration. She didn't fare too well in there that day either, compared to her always dreary breakfast. Her friends were absolutely shocked; Cecilia was usually an avid student eager and ready to learn. On that day, Professor Michael Corner, who taught transfiguration and was also the Ravenclaw head of house, was having them practice turning inanimate objects into mice. He kept shaking his head at Cecilia in dismay.

Halfway through the lesson, a familiar face of the staff entered the classroom, wanting to talk to Professor Corner about a student issue. It was Professor Slughorn, the long holder of the potions teacher job and Slytherin's own head of house, and he stopped his conversation with Professor Corner right in its tracks when he saw the state Cecilia was in.

It wasn't hard to see that the old wizard held favorites in his pupils, and it was even clearer to see that Cecilia was one of them. It probably was her pureblood status that earned her that, but she liked to hope not. Cecilia liked to believe that his concern for her wellbeing was out of kindness. Professor Slughorn was so perturbed, in fact, that he even pulled out a personal green rectangular potion from his coat pocket for her.

"Miss Donahue, do you know what this is?" He asked.

"Um, sir, may I ask what it contains?"

"It has 6 sprigs of dried Billywig stings, 2 sprigs of Wolfsbane, and 6 snake fangs." Professor Slughorn smiled, expecting her to get it. He even added, "It's a beginning concoction, does second year ring any bells?" Despite the hints, Cecilia was rather rubbish at potions, and second year was a long time ago, so she looked at Dom for help. Dominique shrugged.

"I'm not sure, sir."

Professor Slughorn sighed. "It's an awakening potion, also known as Wide-Eye Potion."

"Oops, must've slipped my mind." smiled Cecilia weakly and apologetically.

Slughorn drew his lips together tightly. "Ah, well, you're tired. Take this, this will fix it. Only a drop, that stuff's powerful."

Cecilia smiled for real this time, grateful as she took the vial from him. "Thank you, Professor."

"Of course, anything for my pupils." The old man grinned heartily, tipping his cap as he left. "Goodbye to you too, Weatherby."

Dominique groaned. "Every. Time."

*

Divination class was one of Cecilia's favorites. Her first class of the year was in the middle of the week, Wednesday, and it was her last class of the day. It was quite lonely climbing the tall tower by herself, as none of her friends had taken it. Emily was preoccupied with other classes, Samuel was just poor at the class itself, and Dominique thought the whole thing was rather bullshit. But Cecilia enjoyed it.

She wasn't the most talented seer by any means- that title went to the two blonde twins in her class. Lysander and Lorcan Scamander were so advanced in the art of prophecy that they were put in an advanced program, allowing the two third years to be in a seventh year class for some godforsaken reason. They breezed through curriculum and books, reading tea leaves and telling omens at ease. Along with everyone else in the class, Cecilia was a little jealous. She still sometimes had problems telling apart a sun from a butterfly in the bottom of her mug.

She was pretty quiet in that class, being the lone Slytherin and left without friends to talk to. The twins were outcasts as well, so they shared a table. Not many people liked their positive, uncensored, bubbly personalities anyway. They weren't mean ever, just sometimes their outgoing natures were received as obnoxious. However, the two were always kind, good-natured, and spiritual, which was some behavior Cecilia could definitely get behind. Cecilia knew it wasn't out of a place of arrogance or conceit. It was probably just a consequence of their upbringing. After all, the famous war hero Luna Lovegood was their mother.

Today in Divination, they were reading tea leaves yet again.

"Oi, Lorcan, best watch out for any old blokes, they might give you an illness this week. You've got a grasshopper in your cup."

"So like, I should avoid the majority of my professors?" scowled Lysander. Suddenly, a look of dread washed over his pale face. "Ah, shit! I have history of magic tomorrow! Professor Binns is the oldest guy in the bloody castle! Wait, can you get a disease from a ghost?"

Lorcan and Cecilia were laughing. Cecilia shook her head. "No, I don't think you can."

"Good!" Lysander grinned. "Otherwise, I'd surely be dead!"

"Yeah, yeah, you still need to keep an eye out for likes of McGonagall and Slughorn. They're reaching their years." Lorcan quipped.

"Guess I'll have to skip their classes then."

"Ah, yeah, because that's the right solution." Cecilia smiled. She peered into Lorcan's cup, seeing a jumble of leaves faintly resembling a symbol that she could not recall the omen for off the top of her head. She turned the page in her book before answering. "Alright, so your cup's got ivy in it, which means patience and understanding."

"I have to be patient and understanding if I'm ever to put up with him for the rest of my life." Lorcan jutted a thumb at his twin, who laughed gleefully. "That's definitely accurate. Good Seeing, Celia, now we know tasseomancy must be true!" He looked to his twin for a response, but they found Lysander deep in his work.

"That's odd.." remarked Lysander thoughtfully with a raise of a brow. He was staring into a teacup, squinting and straining his vision.

"What's odd? What do you see?"

"Celia, you've got a flower in yours." He stated plainly.

"What's a flower mean again?" Cecilia questioned. She was bewildered, no flower had ever shown up in her cup before. Was it a bad thing? She couldn't remember.

"It means different things based on what type of flower it is, but yours is hard to tell." Lysander frowned, peering into the teacup, and flipping through pages of Unfogging the Future like mad.

"I mean, generally a flower is good." Lorcan offered.

"Yeah, unless it's wilting." Lysander interjected, finally landing a page in his textbook. "But I can't really make out much of anything, so I'm not making conclusions."

"So it might be really good, but it may also be horrible?" Cecilia sighed. "That's comforting."

The twins smiled weakly at her, trying to make her feel better.

Suddenly, the centaur teacher other than Trelawney, Professor Firenze, trotted up behind them. "Is there a problem?" He asked.

"No, just an unclear tea leaf reading."

"Ah, whose cup is it?"

"Cecilia's."

"Well," Firenze spoke with much carefully calculated knowledge, a voice rich with age and wisdom. He crossed his arms to his human chest. "Unclear readings can mean many things in themselves."

Cecilia listened adamantly with bated breath, her heartbeat thumping out her chest. Dominique would have laughed her ass off to see Cecilia taking tea leaves so seriously.

"Usually," continued Firenze, "it means that for once, the tea leaves haven't already decided your fate for you. It means, dear child, that the decision of your future is yours to make. It will come in time. You just have to be prepared for what lies ahead."

*

And then at night after dinner, instead of going back to the common room, Cecilia would bid her fellow Slytherins goodbye and report for detention.

Detentions, Cecilia had learned, were just as awful, uneventful and boring, as she had imagined. That's what she expected walking into her fifth one on Friday night, but little did Cecilia know that it would be anything but.

James was usually already there practicing charms when she walked into the courtyard. He flicked his wand accordingly, mumbling the incantations under his breath. When he heard her approaching footsteps, he looked up and instantly got a cocky smirk on his lips.

"Hey," He said.

"Hey," said Cecilia back monotonously, sounding exhausted from the day.

"Yikes, you sound like shit."

"Gee. Thanks."

"Didn't get much sleep?"

"How'd you guess?" yawned Cecilia, setting her satchel down. "Where's Filch?"

"Already left. Said he'd come back later. Like always, he's following that dumb claim that some Gryffindors are causing trouble."

"Is he so wrong for thinking so?"

James gave her a pointed look.

"Kidding, I'm kidding." Cecilia laughed hastily.

And so they worked hard through the night, occasionally sharing words or quips with one another. It was no wonder they were so starved for sleep and energy. Filch checked up on them once or twice, just to make sure Cecilia was actually there to serve out day two of her punishment. Mrs. Norris was the real overseer. Cecilia swore that cat was magical or something, always hissing when they happened to slack off, able to sense things a normal cat shouldn't. Eventually, however, there was a point late into the night where the feline finally left them (probably to find her stingy squib owner).

James let out a huge sigh and flopped down onto the ground, exhausted. The moon was high in the sky, peeking behind dark clouds looming overhead. "I'm seriously not going to even be able to operate tomorrow," James sighed. He raked a hand through his disheveled dark curls. "I have a potions paper that's kicking my ass."

"How long do they have us stay out?" wondered Cecilia as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear absentmindedly. She was staring at the stars, reflecting on Divination class earlier, when suddenly, a frigid jolt was sent throughout Cecilia's entire body, making her freeze right in her tracks. An awful feeling of dread overcame her. Then the horrible notion crept into her skull. She felt as if someone was watching them. Her eyes wildly searched the courtyard, desperate for an answer. But there was none.

"Depends from detention to detention." James shrugged as he continued his chattering, blissfully unaware of the tangible change in atmosphere. "Shouldn't be too much longer though. Man, my legs hurt from Quidditch this summer." He stretched his legs out from him, feeling the strained muscle. Cecilia was half paying attention, craning her neck as she looked around the courtyard in alarm, looking like a startled bird. "I know you don't play, but have you ever tried? I bet you'd make a good beater." James smiled and laughed to himself softly, closing his eyes. "You aren't big enough for it, God knows, but you surely have the aggression. If only you weren't so goddamn short-"

And then Cecilia saw it.

"J-James!"

"What?" His eyes snapped open, and when he saw the look on Cecilia's face, his brow furrowed in confusion. He had never seen her this way, her disposition so vulnerable and well, scared. Her voice trembled, eyes glazed over in fear. "What's the matter?" James asked. "Scared Filch'll forget about us and keep us out all night?"

"N-no! Turn around!" She wagged her finger desperately at the dark space behind him. "That ghost, it… it's trying to take your picture!"

"Huh?" James turned. His eyes instantly went wide with shock at the terrifying spectre behind him, looming over his shoulder.

The figure was transparent and hovering with shoulders slumped, resembling that of a young boy, barely even eighteen. His hair was a blond mop upon his head, dirty and unkept. Cecilia had only seen the friendly ghosts of Hogwarts before- the bloody Baron, Nearly Headless Nick, the Grey Lady- but this, this was different. Cecilia found it hard to even look at the boy. He was so.. revolting. His small, skinny body, starved for nutrients, was covered in blood, caked with it in fact, and it was dressed in old and tattered Gryffindor robes. One sleeve was torn and sagging, the fabric soaked and ripped to show his forearm wound, cut haphazardly and messily, the bone sticking out of rotten flesh. The other arm was unscathed for the most part, and in his clutches, he held an old-fashioned camera. It was pressed against his face, hiding it from view. He grasped the button tightly between thin white fingers, present on the button, ever ready for a close-up.

As Cecilia looked at him, transfixed by his presence, he turned and lowered his camera. Her breath hitched. His eyes were a pale grey and as empty as the nothingness from which he came from. The creature's gaze glued Cecilia to her spot. She wanted to move away, but her feet had turned to lead. Cecilia watched in horror and trepidation as the spirit floated entrancingly to face James. James was frozen as well; its gaze met his. Its mouth fell, appearing captivated. It tried to reach out to cup James' visage, to tip his chin up, but the ghost's hand just merely swatted the air, unable to have the human sensation of physical touch.

"Are you.. Harry Potter?"

James' face contorted in a horrid grimace. "No," He said, sounding a bit perturbed.

"Are you sure?" The ghost's bottom lip quivered, resembling a toddler pushed past its endurance. "I-I just thought, you look so similar to him, someone I once knew."

James didn't back down. Cecilia was amazed. He stared the boy hard in the face, unwavering. "I'm Harry Potter's son, James."

The spirit looked both hurt and confused at the same time. "What?" His howling voice cracked. "I'm sorry, James, I didn't know he had a son."

"It's alright," James whispered softly with lips slightly pursed. "What's your name?"

"Colin Creevey," The ghost murmured in return, barely a whisper as well. The two young wizardry students did not react, for that name had no meaning to them.

"And how do you know my dad?" James asked cautiously, finally backing away. He grasped Cecilia and gently guided her behind him, seeing that she still was a bit shaken by the ghostly presence.

"We were once good friends, before the war." continued Colin. "I haven't seen him in a very long time.."

"The war?" echoed Cecilia, finally mustering enough courage to speak. "Did you fight in the war?"

The spectre's attention turned to Cecilia. "Yes, I did. I fought for the great Dumbledore's Army, alongside the famous Harry Potter. And I won. We all won, together. I just- just haven't really seen anybody since." His big grey lifeless eyes filled with transparent tears. "I miss my friends, but I'll keep searching. It's been so long, but I know they would never abandon me."

Colin's voice was hollow and flat, as if he was subconsciously aware of the lie he was telling, yet also wasn't. He spoke like he was trying to convince himself of positivity but losing hope in the reality that didn't even exist anymore. Cecilia exchanged a look with James, and wordlessly, they both knew. This poor young spirit wasn't even aware that he had passed.

What a miserable thing, Cecilia thought sadly to herself.

However, James still inquired further. He was almost hesitantly curious, like he really did not want to know the true answers. "You fought with my dad?"

"I not only fought with your dad," remarked Colin proudly, "I fought for him. He was the best man I've ever known, with the best cause I've ever known. I fought so dearly for his cause, bled for his cause, suffered for his cause."

James suddenly looked aside, obviously bothered at the resounding passion.

"So much in fact-" Colin mused, now quieter, and reached down to his torso. He slowly and tantalizingly moved his blood-drenched sweater aside from his stomach, to reveal a gaping hole. Intestines oozed out, hanging limply with nothing containing them inside.

The mere sight caused James to double over, clutching his mouth with a cupped hand, clawing at his stomach. Bile was threatening to shoot up, overflow. After a moment, he just couldn't hold it anymore and ran to a bush in the middle of the open courtyard, vomiting uncontrollably. Cecilia winced, the awful smell wafting to her nostrils, but she rushed to him in concern, rubbing his back.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry," Colin said timidly, hovering over. He put his hands together worriedly, dropping his sweater so it covered his wound yet again. "I-I didn't mean to frighten you or make you sick."

Neither Cecilia nor James responded. Colin frowned, seeing the look of terror on Cecilia's face as he approached. He stopped in his tracks.

"Maybe it's best if you leave, please, Colin." Cecilia managed to say wistfully, feeling awful, but needing to look out for both of their wellbeings.

"As you wish," Colin bowed his head in sorrow. "But before I go, may I take a picture of you two?"

James' head finally rose and saw Cecilia looking at him for an answer to whether or not the request was okay. James thought for a moment and then replied, "Yes, that'd be alright."

The ghost positioned them together like marionettes, so that James stood shoulder to shoulder with Cecilia and his arm was draped around her. Both were visibly uncomfortable, not with the pose, but by the blank stare of the photographer. Colin retreated himself a considerable distance away and held the camera to his eye. He angled the shot, thinking carefully about his choices. There was dead silence in the dark castle courtyard as he completed the morbid act.

"Say.. Cheese!"

Cecilia felt James twitch around her. All of a sudden, both students regretted agreeing to this. They waited a long time for their photographer, all the while with teeth bared into forced smiles. Even their pearly whites could not hide the deadness in their eyes.

Finally, Colin's bony white finger pressed down on the button, making a rather soft and anticlimactic noise. It did not click or flash. The only sound emitted was the poof of dust forced with a whoosh out of the dated device. Cecilia peered over and it was then that she noticed that the lens and nearly half of the camera were completely destroyed. It was as if it had been thrown upon stone floor with hate, slammed down with intent to shatter.

However, Colin didn't seem to notice. As far as he knew, the film had taken a lovely picture of his new friends, one of whom was the famous Harry Potter's son!

"Thank you," said Colin gleefully. For the first time since meeting him, Cecilia and James saw an expression on his face that was rarely seen on ghosts- a smile. He looked forever grateful.

"Of course, Colin." Cecilia nodded. Her lips were tight, drawn shut, eyes closed. She could barely feel the ghost venture out yet again to try and touch her silky human skin. His fingertips passed through her shoulder gently, drifting in the wind. Despite this, he still kept on smiling, and with that, the ghost of Colin Creevey turned and left them.

Cecilia's attention fell to James, who had been surprisingly silent through it all. She turned to look at him, but suddenly, the sky above them let out a crack, and rain began pouring buckets down upon the two. Cecilia let out a tiny shriek and ran back to the corridor, protected by a roof, sheltered from the storm. But as she gazed back, she saw James, who had remained standing where he was just as the ghost had left him. He was still in the manipulated pose for the picture. She saw James' glazed over eyes, full of emotion, looking at the space that the spectre had just inhabited.

Cecilia felt the urge to run to him, but she stood paralyzed.

"James!" She called. Her soothing voice was like music to James' ears. It snapped him out of his odd trance. He looked at her with blank eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He said, voice flat and unconvincing.

Cecilia didn't believe him, so she asked again.

"I'm fine," He insisted, louder now. He appeared different, as if he had buried the emotion and darkness in his eyes that Cecilia had seen just moments before deep down below, never to be touched again. "Seriously, Celia, I'm fine."

"Why are you standing out in the rain then? Come out from there." Cecilia called out in worry.

James ran to her, in the corridor, and slumped to the floor.

"I'm sorry, I got a little bit carried away." He explained hastily, like he didn't wish to talk about it at all. He looked to the side in shame, avoiding eye contact. However, he still felt as if he owed her an answer to his odd behavior. "I'm just started thinking, that's all."

"About what?" Celia asked softly. "Were you thinking about your dad?"

"Partly," James mumbled. "I just started thinking, he's the same age as us, you know. When he died, he died for a cause he believed in- my dad's cause. He died for my dad." He made eye contact with Cecilia, whose turn it was to look away. He knew he was making her uncomfortable, but he still continued.

"Some may say I'm crazy for saying such a thing, but it's awful thing sometimes, this legacy."

*

 _A/N: I hate author's notes so I'm not about to take up any more time than needed. For clarification and just for the sake of the story, I switched Lorcan and Lysander's birth year from roughly any time from 2008-2014 to 2006. Not too big of a deal, I just know I'll get comments about it. For the record, my canon James Sirius was born in early 2003, and Dom and Celia were born in 2003. So that means they're basically the same age, just separated by years at school. Hope that's not too confusing! Thanks guys!_

 _-Natalie xx_


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